Egg of Air
by Therese Delacoeur
Summary: Oneshot for now. What happens to the children at Benden Weyr who don't get chosen as dragonriders? A story of Kylea, an orphan, and her friend K'van from The Smallest Dragonboy. EDITED 3-31-08


**Okay, guys, this is my very first Pern fanfic, so please, let me know if you see anything! This is the reposting, reviewers pointed out some minor but important errors, so let me know if you see anything else!**

**EDITED 3/31/08**

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN PERN OR ANY RELATED CHARACTERS/SETTING. Besides, it's kinda hard to own a planet, don't you think? Kylea, though, is mine. Ask her (and me) if you want to borrow her.**

* * *

Egg of Air

Kylea stalked the edge of the Hatching Grounds, her dark eyes staring hungrily at the newest clutch. Their shells appeared to wave and undulate gently in the intense heat of the sands, as if they were nothing but a dream, a mirage that would disappear into the grainy depths of the earth if she would dare to approach any closer. She was sixteen, an adult with all the privileges and responsibilities that entailed, and yet she envied the Searched, those laughing, giggling children for whom this was merely a game, a daydream come true.

And here they were – Kylea could hear their shrieking mirth from across the Grounds. A few of the bolder ones strode out from the doorway, only to falter at the blazing heat she knew they felt through their thick-soled shoes. The rest spilled onto the sands like a toppled mug of klah, spreading like a dark, moving stain on the pure white. Quickly, Kylea ducked behind an edge in the rock of the arena-like pit. She didn't want to be seen. She didn't want to be pitied.

T'ran's voice could be heard echoing throughout the enormous cavern. "These are the Hatching Grounds," he entoned with the enthusiasm of dirt. Kylea heard several muffled giggles. "They are at the center of Benden Weyr, just as the Hatching is at the center of Weyr life. Now, the dragons will hum…" Kylea stopped listening as T'ran continued with his well-rehearsed speech. This wasn't the first time she'd heard it; she had always followed the Searched every year, whenever the queen Ramoth clutched. At first, she had tagged along as if she herself had been one of the lucky ones who would stand to make the Impression. She was tolerated by the guides, but as she grew older she found that her mother, and later her Harper-instructor, Harper Grenol, would mysteriously produce chores for her when it came time for a Hatching. Kylea was supposed to be gathering mushrooms for the cooks in the back tunnels of the weyr, but she just couldn't resist looking…and dreaming… and maybe, just maybe-

But that dream was closed. Kylea straightened her shoulders and readjusted the bag slung over her shoulder. She was sixteen and she had never, not once, been Searched by the dragons. By the First Shell! She'd lived in the weyr for, well, forever! She'd been surrounded by the beasts since she'd been small. If she was meant to be a dragonrider, they would've told her so by now, surely. But they hadn't, and so here she was. It was time to move on to different—if slightly smaller—dreams.

A scuffling echoed beyond the bend, and Kylea whipped her head around, tensing for a fight with a tunnel snake or some other unsavory earth dweller. She relaxed, though, as she saw K'van's blond head glint in the dim cavern light. "Come on, Heth," Kylea heard him say soothingly. "It's not _that_ bad a fit… Look, even _I_ can do it!" He threw up his hands in a supremely dramatic gesture and hit them on the tunnel's roof.

Kylea chuckled and walked forward to greet her friend and his bronze. "You know," she started, ignoring his startled jump, "he's really getting too big for this kind of stuff anymore." She eyed K'van's hand, which was turning bright red. "Actually, I think you both are. Do you need some numbweed for that?"

"Oh, hi Ky'," K'van mumbled. He stared at the back of his hand. "No, I think I'm okay, really…"

But Kylea had already whipped out her belt purse and was rummaging around in it. "I know I have some of Mende's… Ah!" She triumphantly presented a wad of dried grass to K'van. "Hold that for a second while I tear off a bandage."

"But, Ky', the infirmary is just-" He stopped and swallowed a grin as Kylea ripped a huge strip from the bottom of her skirt. "The infirmary's down there," he finish lamely.

Kylea opened her mouth to argue, then sighed gustily. "Shells. You're right." She turned redder than K'van's hand. "That was stupid."

"Yeah, that was," K'van agreed genially, and they both laughed.

"Might as well bandage you up while I've got this," Kylea eventually said, waving around the strip of brown cloth.

"Why not?" K'van presented his hand with a flourishing bow. "Anything to be cared for by a pretty lady."

Kylea giggled and pretended to fan herself with the fabric. "Oh sir, you flatter me!" She rolled her eyes. Deftly, she placed the numbweed on the sore spot and wound the makeshift bandage around his hand.

"Thanks, Ky'!" K'van twisted his hand around to admire the work. "This is great!"

A gusty dragon sigh blew through the tunnel. _And if you two are done flirting, I'd like to head to bed. K'van, I thought you were tired! We did double patrols this morning!_

A scarlet K'van turned to Keth, who was scrunched in a corner of the tunnel. "No need to whine, we were just leaving." Kylea giggled again as she heard K'van say as Heth backed out of the tight tunnel, "And we were not flirting! Can't old friends just _talk_ for a moment or two in peace without people getting all sorts of ideas in their head?"

_Sure,_ agreed Heth as they walked away. _But I know that you'd like to be _more_ than – _His telepathic announcement was abruptly cut off as an echoing "thump!" reached Kylea's ears. 'K'van probably hit him,' she thought to herself as she went back to the kitchens to drop off the mushrooms. 'I would too, if my friend was assuming stuff… Me and K'van! Ha! Like a dragonrider, no, wait, a _bronze_ dragonrider would even look twice at plain me! Even if we _were_ old friends.'

* * *

When Kylea reached the cave, Harper Grenol was pacing back and forth in the caves that they shared, his balding pate glistening in the light from the glowbaskets. He turned around as he heard the door closing behind her. "Kylea, we need to talk."

"Of course! But let me first –"

"No," the aging Harper interrupted firmly. He pointed to the front two armchairs, secondhand but very comfortable. "We need to talk _now_."

"Certainly," Kylea agreed, and with just a little confusion sat down in her favorite one of a deep forest green. "What's wrong?" She looked anxiously at her guardian.

Harper Grenol paced once more before plopping in the other chair. "Kylea, do you remember when your mother died?"

Kylea started. Why was he asking? Of course she remembered! Your only parent passing away was not something you'd easily forget. She opened her mouth to answer, but the Harper was already waving away her question. "Of course you do. But what you might not remember is that I made a promise to your mother." He rubbed one gnarled hand over his forehead, and Kylea was struck with how old her beloved mentor looked. He couldn't have been more than forty turns, but he looked like a man haunted, driven beyond his brink. "Well," Grenol continued slowly, gauging her reaction, "I mean to keep my promise."

"And that's…good?" Kylea guessed.

The Harper sagged a little bit. With relief? Or exhaustion? Kylea couldn't tell. "Yes. I promised her I'd make you happy, and help you make a life for yourself. So, I have apprenticed you with the Craft Hall near Fort Hold."

"What?!" Kylea jumped out of her chair, spilling the folded bag she'd been fiddling with onto the cold stone floor. "How could you do this to me?! Why are you making me leave here?" Tears welled up and jumped from Kylea's eyes, but she pushed them away so she could glare at the Harper clearly. "This is my home! I can't go! I won't!"

Grenol sighed. He knew she'd be difficult. "Many girls have already found their foster families in Guilds long before now."

"You're as good as a foster family, Haper Grenol!" Grenol almost caved in when she looked at him with such obvious love in her eyes, but he stayed firm.

"But I'm not a foster family, Kylea, dear," Grenol said gently. "I'm just a crusty old bachelor who can't teach you what you need to know. You need a mother for that—a _real_ foster mother, not a stand-in like me."

Kylea crossed her arms and glared at her mentor in anger. Grenol lost all patience with his ward:

"You're an adult! Start acting like one and find your place in the world!" Kylea stiffened at his harsh words, but his brusque manner had the desired effect. She let them penetrate her irritation and she loosened her stiff posture when she realized that he was perfectly right.

"You must not, cannot, go mooning after dragons for your life," he added more gently when he saw she was more reasonable. Kylea felt her throat become choked up as the feelings she had managed to forget for a little while with K'van returned and threatened to flood her reason with sadness. "I have arranged an apprenticeship with Master Weaver Jolien for you. I know how much you enjoy your art; perhaps learning will take your mind off of leaving home, and," he added softly, "leaving me."

Kylea looked at her master and friend through the veil of tears, and hugged him. She saw what it was costing him to say these things that, deep down, she knew needed to be said. She thought of his pain, of what it must feel like to let go of the girl you considered as dear as your own daughter, and forced herself to face the unpleasant truth: she must leave Benden Weyr, and the dragonets, and the life that was all she knew. It wasn't as if she was the first weyrling to be fostered to another hold, she thought with a silent, bitter laugh. She wasn't alone in that.

But she was in all else.

"Yes, Harper Grenol," she heard her mouth say, and turned away before a fresh deluge raced down her pale cheeks. "I will start to pack," Kylea added, and staggered towards her room like a blind woman.

* * *

"She's gone where?!" K'van yelled, dashing to the doorway.

"Hold, young rider!" Harper Grenol commanded, and K'van froze, his body automatically responding to the voice that had demanded respect and obedience during his lessons so long ago. "She has a duty to her family and her name. She must leave us."

"We're her family!" K'van pleaded with the wise Harper. "Let her stay, please! She's like a sister to me."

"And more, perhaps?" the Harper enquired shrewdly. He didn't allow the young man a chance to answer. "Remember your own duty, bronze rider. Do not lose your way over a girl—"

"Even Kylea?" K'van interrupted bitterly.

"Even Kylea," Grenol said firmly. "This…connection you have with Kylea. It must end. Now. Pern cannot afford its most promising bronze riders to be distracted."

K'van smiled a little at the compliment. He knew Harper Grenol did not give such compliments lightly. But still… He would trade all his talent away, if only to keep Kylea near.

Harper Grenol's eyes grew dim and unfocused, as he looked at a time long since passed. "I too loved from afar. That love binds me still." He looked back at K'van. "It is unwise to love foolishly."

K'van opened his mouth to protest again, but the resolve in his elder's eyes forced him to choke back the words.

The Harper's words haunted him as he returned to the bed he shared with Heth.

_So the girl is gone,_ the dragon remarked solemnly. K'van nodded.

"She'll leave tomorrow with the Gather wagons," he said dully.

_Good. You cannot afford distractions right now_. When K'van glared at him, Heth gave him a dragon-shrug roll of his great wings, making the talons scrape and click against the scales. _We_ _have too much to learn, and she takes up too much time_.

"At least she's worth my time!" his rider snapped, and strode away from the curious stares from both draconian and human eyes.

* * *

Kylea stared at the dusty road, one that she had seen from above many times a-dragonback. She imagined the great, tan snake, winding its way through the rocky hills and canyons before disappearing into the forest, the only greenery anywhere near the weyr that had once been her hold. She didn't move from her position by the driver of the wagon, even when the beasts began their weary trudge down the steep slope. She ignored the joyous shouts and wellwishes for safe journeys, and was, in fact, like the stone that surrounded them: unmoving and unfeeling, save for the single tear that she did not have the heart to wipe away.

But that would be the last tear, she vowed silently as it landed on her lap. Never again would she cry for the place that had forced her to leave, that let her see hundreds of others gain their ultimate desires but had cruelly refused her own. She would not cry for the only family she had left that had forced her to make this decision. She would be strong, and she would survive to show Benden Weyr what they had thrown so casually away.

K'van stared at the caravan as it picked its way slowly down the road. He was at the watchrock, alone. There were bags under his eyes, attesting to a lack of sleep most likely due to the simple fact that he had refused to return to Heth for the first time since Impression. Heth was now a patiently waiting silence in his head, and K'van was glad for the extra space. He needed to wrestle his feelings out alone.

But whatever he felt, he knew that he couldn't bring Kylea back home. She was lost to him, forever – had never been his to begin with. He had known, in the back of his mind, that she would have to leave him someday. In fact, once the initial shock had worn out, K'van was mildly surprised that Harper Grenol had waited as long as he had to foster Kylea to another Hold. No, it was time and past for her to find what fortune lay out there for one such as her. He--or at least, a smaller, nobler part of him that wanted Kylea to be happy, even if it meant for him to be miserable--hoped that she found a better love and life than she had left here.

Besides, he would have been an unfit love, anyway. He knew what duty and honor required of him, what responsibilities he had willingly taken for the chance to be a dragonrider. He knew the risks involved with fighting the Thread, how he could be asked to give his life for the protection of Pern.

And he would give his life, should it be asked of him. K'van was older, and somewhat wiser, than the smallest dragonboy that he had been a mere two Turns ago. He had never shirked, never wondered if he had made the right decision, not with Heth by his side. But for the first time, K'van was thinking that maybe being a rider was too great a price to pay for losing the thing he held most dear, as a sister… and maybe, someday, more than that.

That was selfish thinking. She had not been Chosen by the green dragons, and she could not stay at the weyr as another caretaker. Everyone was once a fosterling. It was time for Kylea to be one as well, and so K'van could respect and even admire Harper Grenol's ability to see this, even if he hated the consequences. The most he could do was to be there, whenever she needed him.

"Whenever you need me," K'van repeated out loud, and the grasping wind carried his words away as he lost sight of the caravan beyond the last curve in the road.

* * *

**Well, what do you guys think? Should I continue this? I could probably leave it here, but I've left it open. I hope you enjoy it!**

**I think I will continue Kylea's journey, though I'm not sure yet if it'll be off of this.**

**Enough rambling from me! Thanks for reading and bearing with me! Therese**

**REVIEW REPLIES:**

**cathrl: Yep, it's supposed to be Heth, not Keth – I think I got hooked on the K'van trip to change that… And the viewpoint change revealed stuff that I think I'll save for later, or maybe you can guess from the story. I changed a bit of the conversation with K'van and Grenol, so hopefully that'll clear up the confusion.**

**Starsinger: I might continue with this story specifically, or start a new one. Either way, I'd like to see her grow, too! ;)**

**AvocadoLove: Sorry, you're right. Thanks for reviewing, anyway!**

**Bubblepop55: Thanks! Her story will definitely be continued, I think.**

**LaurieH: Thank you so much for your suggestions! I used many of them in the edit, though I kept her orphaned—clichéd, I know, but I toned it down—and kept her name the same. I figured I could change it later if some more people are confused. Thank you, thank you, thank you for the suggestions! They really helped a lot.**

**MRACR: Thanks! I want K'van and Kylea to end up together, too, but I can't make it easy on them, can I?**

**ginalee: Thank you! I can't wait to see if everything turns out right, either. I don't know yet; I haven't written it!**

**dragon of atlantis: Hi! And a (belated) seasons' greetings to you as well! Actually, "Egg of Air" was supposed to represent Kylea's empty hopes of becoming a dragonrider, though that was an interesting theory. I might still have her Impress, though. :D**

**Sophie Ellum: Thank you so much! Yeah, I loved K'van, too; this story was partially born from my curiosity about him: what would he be like as a rider, once he was no longer "The Smallest Dragonboy"?**


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